I don’t want cooking to become mere habit again. I will need to admit that my meticulous menu planning and habitual cooking was partially practical but also a means to mask my anxiety and control food another way in my life.

The barbell hovered a few inches off the ground. I dropped it and shook my head. That’s ok, take a few seconds and try it again. I step back up to the bar. I’ve never failed a second attempt, I think as it hits the gym floor.

I’m halfway through a therapy session when I have a sudden thought. I really want a T-shirt emblazoned with the words “I do what I want.” I want it so badly ... In my head they are code words for “Fuck you...."

During the entirety of my 20s and 30s I was asked when I was going to settle down and get married. I would always respond: When it’s legal for everyone I will consider it. Then marriage equality happened and I had that “oh fuck” moment...